


The Reaper's Apprentice

by SagaciousStrix



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SagaciousStrix/pseuds/SagaciousStrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arima's plan is finally initiated but will he be the patient mentor his charge needs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meeting Sasaki Haise

**Author's Note:**

> So here's to the start of a new story. I've had this idea stuck in my head for a while now, and while I have other works in progress, I couldn't resist the temptation of putting finger to keyboard and so here we are. In this fic Haise and Arima will develop a father-son relationship just as a heads up. I hope you enjoy and thanks for reading!

The nurse looked up from her computer, her eyes sparking with quick recognition as she surveyed the visitor. Tall and stoic, he loomed over the desk with a placid expression as he waited to be signed in. With a few clicks of her mouse the nurse finished her task and got up to help the man to the room.

“We’ve been expecting you,” she said respectfully with a small smile. It would do her no good to offend this man whom they called a Shinigami. With a nod he acknowledged her, stepping back slightly to allow her to take the lead.   

The walls of the facility were pristine. The air was stale and smelled of disinfectant with a hint of death that the reaper was perhaps too accustomed to. Silently they approached the room where he would find his charge. As they wound through the halls he memorized the path with ease. It would be a grim folly if he got lost amid the maze of endless passages and steel doors. With a final turning of a bend they arrived.

The door was identical to the others they had passed, but unlike the others, this one held something behind it that Arima didn’t understand. He could understand death. In fact he seemingly relished in the thrill of causing it. The reaper felt uneasy at the thought of entering the room, possibly caused by the fact that he had consciously chosen to save this person, stilling his hand before making the killing blow. Imperceptibly berating himself for the thought he nodded once more at the nurse before entering the key code that would unlock the door and give him access.

“Just use the button if you need me. We have RC suppressants in the ventilation that will be triggered in case of an emergency if things get out of hand. So far we’ve had no problem with the patient. He is on a heavy dosage of suppressants so don’t be alarmed if he doesn’t talk much.”

With a simple ‘thank you’ Arima entered the room. The automatic door closed behind him. With a whir the door sealed itself and with it the sounds of the busy intersections beyond. The only pervasive sounds in the room were of the many monitors connected to the figure lying on the bed and of his gentle breathing. With a sharp intake of breath the hospital gown-garbed patient stirred, head tilting slightly in the direction of the intruder. Bandages wove their way around his head to cover his orbitals, effectively blocking the depthless voids where his eyes should have been. “H-hello?” he questioned in wary voice, shrinking in on himself.

Arima arranged his thoughts before approaching the bed. He could see the straps that lay unused along the bottom hem of the bed. Luckily it seemed that he was indeed cooperating as the nurse had told him and they were deemed unnecessary. It seemed like a good sign, though Arima wasn’t all that prone to being optimistic.

“Hello,” replied Arima smoothly, no inflection whatsoever reaching his voice. He had to be prepared for anything and thus adjusted his hold on the quinque case he had with him experimentally, just in case it was needed.

Taking this as a sign that this visitor would cause him no harm the young adult minutely relaxed, causing the machine monitoring his heartbeat to extend the time between its relentless beeps in response. “W-who are you, if I might ask,” questioned the boy with a slight blush.

“My name is Arima Kishou. I work for the Commission of Counter Ghoul as an investigator,” he answered the question as clearly and professionally as possible, still testing the boy’s supposed amnesia in case of a relapse. It was well known that he had previously been fighting against the CCG and had in fact been placed on the list of ghouls to be exterminated on sight as the SS rated ghoul Centipede before Arima had decided to save him instead. There was still a chance that he would remember and try his luck escaping from the heavily guarded facility though the drugs in his system would prevent him from getting very far. Therefore, before allowing him to become Arima’s charge in full, it was decided that he would test the boy to see if the diagnosis would indeed hold up when potential memory triggering topics were discussed. Especially when considering the fact that Arima had a hand in the events that had led to his hospitalization.

Arima remained inspecting the boy for any indication of recognition but found none. His charge simply cocked his head slightly, contemplating his response. The action itself was sluggish, instead of a graceful movement his head simply lolled. Arima could possibly suggest a reduction in his dosage of suppressants depending on the outcome of this meeting. Finally organizing his thoughts the boy asked the question Arima had least been prepared to answer.

“Why are you here?”

A moment of silence invaded the air between them as the investigator decided on the best course of action. He could of course lie. This would be the standard procedure but considering this in his calculations and overall goal involving the young adult in front of him he decided against it and instead chose to go with the truth, disregarding certain features of it as he saw fit.

“I’m here to check on you. You were in an accident,” if you could call being stabbed through both eyes an accident.

“Oh, I see,” replied the boy thoughtfully. He took a long pause before speaking again. “Well, I’m okay if that’s what you were wondering.” He said this as he reached up with his free hand not connected to wires to touch his chin.

While Arima couldn’t be accredited as a profound reader of people he could spot a tell when he saw one. “Really? If I was in your position I don’t think I would feel the same.”

This was meet with silence, until a small sob emitted itself from the boy. Tears that couldn’t be shed due to the absence of ducts were evident from the noises of distress coming from the boy. Arima watched patiently as he quieted, having worn himself down in his emotional display. “Sorry,” whispered the young man, remembering that he had company at the moment. “I just don’t understand. Who am I?”

Now this was something Arima was prepared to answer. “You are Sasaki Haise, potential CCG investigator candidate.” This was a moment of truth in which the flexibility of his seemingly empty memory would be tested. If he indeed had forgotten himself he should have little problem accepting his new identity. If this was not the case he would be subjected to an interrogation session in which his memories would be tested, potentially leaving him unfit for Arima’s suggested proposition regarding the half-ghoul.

“Sasaki Haise,” murmured the boy. “Thank you.”

Arima waited for more questions until he noticed that his charge had fallen asleep. He waited a few moments before leaving, observing the sleeping figure with a final glance before entering the code to open the door. It seemed like his plan could be initiated after all.

The man walked down the halls leading to the exit in a thoughtful haze until he reached the nurses station where he stalled. The nurse looked up from her work as Arima addressed her. “Please reduce the amount of suppressants. I will return tomorrow to visit with Haise again.”

“You finally decided on a name then,” replied the nurse opening up a file on her computer while she spoke.

“Sasaki Haise,” replied the reaper. “I would appreciate it if you began addressing him as such.”

“Of course,” assured the nurse.

With a nod of thanks the reaper left the hospital. One thought entered his mind as he left; it appeared that he would have an apprentice after all.


	2. Cloudburst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arima helps Haise remember a word from his past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I just wanted to start by saying the first few chapters based on meetings in the hospital will be slightly shorter then the average chapter length in the rest of this fic which should be around two thousand words or more from here on out. Thank you to all who left comments and kudos, I really didn't expect this reception and it is really encouraging. Also please forgive me for using the term cloudburst, I'm aware it's over used but I'm a sucker for nostalgia. And without further ado, enjoy!

As Arima walked in the room the next day he noticed an immediate difference in his charge. For one he was sitting up, an improvement over his immobility yesterday. In another when he walked in he wasn’t met with the flinching figure Haise had been and was instead treated with a small smile. This may have been caused by the change in the nurse’s behavior towards him but then again it could also be attributed to the reduction in the amount of suppressants he had circulating in his blood stream.

“Arima Kishou?” the boy questioned tentatively.

“Just Arima is fine. Hello Haise, how are you feeling today?” asked Arima.

“I’m better, thank you,” replied the young man with a grin. His hand remained still on the sheets, indicating that he was, in fact, telling the truth.

“Glad to hear it. Are the nurses treating you well?” Considering that Arima had personally picked out the staff in charge of Haise’s case he was sure they would treat him fairly, if not kindly. While he couldn’t expect them to treat him as they would the other investigators under their care, it would not do to treat him inhumanly as he was to be considered human, diet aside.

“They’re…. good,” replied Haise, a hand trailing up to touch his chin.

Arima frowned slightly at the gesture. It would seem he had not been careful enough in his selection. “Just good?” prompted Arima, neither expression nor voice revealing his concern.

“Well… they’re quiet and they leave quickly after they’re done. I don’t know, it’s just… lonely.” Haise lowered his hand as he spoke.

“I see… Have they done anything to make you uncomfortable?” Asked Arima, a slight warning in his voice that went unnoticed by the boy.

“No, they’re fine.” Arima hadn’t expected to encounter this problem. He would have thought the problem, if there was one to be found, would reside in the staff and not in Haise’s need for social interaction.

“Good, in that case, do you have any questions?” Arima had come prepared to interact more with the boy today then with him at the semi-full mental capacity he had had yesterday.

“My eyes… they’ve been itchy all day. Is that normal?” Haise asked warily.

Arima thought about his question before answering. This must be due to the reduction of the RC suppressants. The nurse stationed at the front of the hospital noted that his RC count had increased during the day. While not entirely surprising in itself, it was alarming that even after a small decrease his eyes were beginning to regenerate. He has seen firsthand the Centipede’s healing capabilities and he knew that even in dire conditions he would heal quickly, smooth skin appearing new in a matter of minutes as if no damage had been applied to the area. While Arima wasn’t well studied on the topic of ghoul organ replication, he could assume that it would take only a few more hours, if not less, for Haise to regain his sight.

“Yes… They were damaged in your accident but they should be fine soon enough,” assured the man.

Haise visibly huffed a sigh of relief at the assurance. He hadn’t hoped to believe that he would be able to see again. Especially when given the fact that he had been living what seemed to be most of his life in darkness.

“Any other concerns?” inquired the shinigami obligatorily.

“When can I leave?”

“A few more days and you’ll be released as long as you agree to certain terms. You still need to understand your position in life and what it will entail,” responded the man with little enthusiasm. Arima had no doubt that the conversation to be had would be one of the most dramatic and crushing realizations the boy would have, at least in recent memory. He had no joy in bringing the hopeful boy into the cruel reality he would face just yet. He would save that for another day.

“I guess that’s fair.” At that moment Haise’s stomach gave off a small gurgle, alarming the man who knew all too intimately what a ghoul’s hunger looked like.

“Haise, when was the last time you ate?”

“I don’t… don’t remember.”

Off course he wouldn’t as the sludge the staff would have given him would have been forced down his throat in a tube while he was knocked unconscious. The reduction in suppressants may have stimulated his regeneration and increase in mental aptitude, but it came at the price of an increase in appetite.

“I’ll have the nurses bring you something,” Arima got up to leave the seat he was propped in close to Haise’s bed when he felt a small tug on his sleeve. Looking down he could see Haise’s hand, complete with black nails hanging onto his sleeve. Arima immediately tensed, free hand ready to open his quinque case in a moment if necessary. He could have it open in just under two seconds in these conditions should the need arrive, but it seemed to be unnecessary as Haise’s next words stooped him from taking action.

“Wait, could you stay? For just a moment longer… please?” asked Haise, a slightly embarrassed look gracing his slender face with a pale pink flush appearing on his cheeks.

Arima stopped moving to get up and abruptly sat back down. “Of course,” responded the reaper, replacing the case he had clenched in his free hand back on the floor beside his chair. Arima didn’t exactly relax back into his seat but he didn’t remain with his muscles coiled and ready to spring either.

“What do you want to talk about Haise?”

“I.. um…” it was clear he was stalling. He dreaded the moment his sole companion would leave him alone with the timid nurses who scuttled in and out of the room with darting movements and few words to spare.

Arima, never the conversationalist himself, couldn’t stand to see the internal struggle the boy was currently undergoing. So he started with the most basic topic he could think of; the weather. “It’s raining today,” noted the shinigami.

Clearly not expecting this statement, Haise frowned slightly. A quick buzz floated through the back of his mind but disappeared just as quickly. Half-forgotten kanji characters floated through the apex of his mind, refusing to disappear until he addressed them.

“There’s kanji for a word that means a sudden rainfall, I just can’t quite remember…” he trailed off as the lines of the figure started to blur in and out of focus in his mind’s eye.

“Are you thinking of cloudburst by any chance?” proposed Arima, remembering the particular word from one of the novels he had recently finished.

“Yes,” replied Haise with a grin, disappearing soon after. “I can’t remember how to draw it though,” he stated with a frown. “Do you think you could… draw it for me?”

Arima was confused by the question until Haise proffered his callused palm as a palette. Arima glanced once at Haise’s concentrated expression before creating the appropriate line with careful strokes of his index finger, pausing a few seconds between characters so his charge could understand them. When he was done he leaned back, watching as a contented smile formed itself on Haise’s lips.

“Cloudburst, sounds right. Thank you,” said Haise, voice filled with a gratitude so unknown to Arima that he felt a twinge in his chest he hadn’t felt before. He stood up quickly, causing his charge to jump in surprise. “I must be going now. Have a pleasant day Haise. I’ll make sure you get some food soon enough.”

Haise looked disappointed at the announcement but nodded sadly in response. “Same to you Arima. Will you be back soon?”

Arima gave his usual affirmative nod before remembering that Haise couldn’t see the gesture so instead he quietly cleared his throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow Haise,” replied the reaper, leaving before he could get a response from the young adult.

Arima walked briskly through the halls, stopping only to address the current nurse that his charge was to be fed soon, and properly at that, and left. His finger still tingled from its encounter with Haise’s palm. Shaking it off, he walked the rest of the way to his vehicle before driving to the CCG headquarters. Even with the situation at hand, a Shinigami’s job could never be pushed off for long.


	3. Revelation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arima finally tells Haise the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! Thank you for all of the kudos, I'm always thrilled to see another one pop up in my inbox. I just wanted to say that if anyone has an idea for this story, especially if it involves a pun, I would love to hear it. I really don't have a firm idea of what will be included here so it is very flexible to the whims of you, dear readers. As always, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Arima walked down the halls for what would be, if all went according to plan, the last time before he was allowed to release Haise from the hospital. It was in this meeting that the boy’s fate would be decided. Depending on how he reacted to his situation, Haise would be initiated under Arima’s protection and become his full responsibility. Bracing himself, he entered the key code and walked inside.

Haise was sleeping silently, barely moving as Arima walked over to the chair positioned beside the bed. The bandages covering his eyes had been removed, leaving him free to view his private room with its sparse furnishings in full. While the room, with its absence of natural light was well lit with fluorescence, it couldn’t be considered entirely homely. The mechanical influences on the overall ambiance made it too technical in Arima’s opinion, but then again practicality and functionality were more suited towards the CCG’s professionalism then the simple aesthetics of a hospital room.

Arima made these observations as he waited for Haise to wake up. The nurse had warned him that he would behave as someone who had just woken from a coma and would require an abnormal amount of sleep for a couple of days, even as a ghoul. His body would still be trying to adjust to the absence of heavy dosages of suppressants. This being the case the man waited patiently for any sign of awareness on the part of his charge.

Finally, with only a slight increase in heartbeat as was displayed on the monitor, Haise woke, rolling over with blurry eyes to face Arima. Coming to the realization that someone was in his room, Haise quickly sat up and rubbed his eyes. “S-s-sorry! You should have woken me!” stuttered Haise as he sat up in the bed.

“It’s quite all right Haise, you need your rest,” assured Arima in an attempt to stop Haise from overreacting.

“Arima?” The half-ghoul asked cautiously, gray eyes focusing on the individual in front of him. It was his first time seeing the man in person instead of simply hearing his disembodied voice during their short conversations. His appearance was not what he expected. Glasses covered his calculating eyes and white hair feel from his crown to frame his thin face. The man before him was rather expressionless as they looked at each other.

With a nod Arima answered his question. Always one to get straight to the point, Arima forestalled further questions by directing the conversation. “Yes Haise, I’m glad to see that you’ve regained your sight but I’m afraid today’s meeting will not be as casual as the previous days. I’ve come to discuss something that needs your full attention and cooperation. Do you understand?”

Haise nodded, a furrow appearing between his brows as he acknowledged Arima’s words for what they were. He had always understood, from day one of his remembered voyage into the land of the conscious that something had been wrong. This came in the form of the staff’s lack of conversations with him to the way that he had been partially restrained yesterday while eating an unidentifiable chunk of raw meat. While he could comprehend these small and seemingly unconnected facts he couldn’t piece them together by himself. With a sense of dread for what Arima would say next he nodded his head solemnly.

“Yes, I understand.”

Taking this as a sign to begin, Arima spun the CCG approved version of Haise’s past under his former identity of Kaneki Ken. “A couple years ago you were involved in an accident. You were badly injured and in desperate need of an organ transplant. The other person in the accident was killed in the aftermath. To save your life the doctor took the victim’s organs and used them to save you.”

Arima paused, waiting for Haise to digest what he was saying. This story was nearly the truth, but with the absence of names or a place of reference. It was another test of Haise’s amnesia while duplicating as means to provide him with enough answers that he wouldn’t seek them on his own at a later date.

“I’m pretty accident prone aren’t I?” stated Haise rhetorically with a grimace.

Arima sighed at Haise’s poor attempt at a joke before continuing. Now came the hard part. “Haise, you see, the victim wasn’t an ordinary person. They were what we call a ghoul.”

“Ghoul?” asked Haise blankly.

“Yes, ghoul. They require human-derived sustenance as a means to survive.”

“But they can’t exist, not in real life. In stories perhaps but…” Haise trailed off as he noticed the serious expression written on his companion’s face. “Really?” asked the young adult in wonder. It was only a few seconds later when horror invaded his awestruck air of innocence.  “B-but… What does that mean for me?” Whispered the boy, the final piece of the jigsaw quickly clicking into place.

Arima silently approved the rate at which his charge had pieced two and two together, though this was neither inflected in his face nor his voice as he spoke. “Unfortunately the damage provided by the introduced organs is irreparable. The ghoul specific organ, the kakuhou, which was falsely implanted in you at the time of the surgery cannot be removed. If partially biopsied or tampered with it will repair itself. This is due to the influence of the Rc cells it propagates. This being the case you are, Haise, in a sense, a half-ghoul.”

Arima stopped speaking. The worst was over and the results of the discussion had yet to come to fruition as Haise remained shell shocked from the announcement. Arima could almost see the gears in his head spin as he processed the information. Haise’s kakugan made its appearance, signifying that he was in a state of distress, as could be expected from the news.

“I don’t believe you,” he stated calmly, though his eyes were wide with despair. The boy knew this was logical in a completely convoluted and twisted sense of the word. But it was simply too much, too fantastical an idea for him to fully comprehend his situation. He could feel his left eye twitch for a second in discomfort before the feeling disappeared.

Arima, expecting both his denial and the presence of his kakugan as an after effect of the information, reached over to the bed side night stand where a hand mirror was present. He had asked to be provided one earlier should the situation require authentic proof of his story. The nurse behind the counter had given him a questioning look before finding the required item. Now the opportunity for its use was at hand.

Silently Arima handed over the mirror, reflected side showing only his grim countenance as he proffered the mirror with the backside facing the boy. With a trembling hand, Haise took the mirror, slowly turning it towards him. What he saw surprised him to say the least. One of the first things he had noticed upon having his bandages removed were his nails, inky black and slightly long, refusing to yield to a pair of nail clippers he had requested from one of his nurses. He was able to dismiss this however, as a strange phenomenon. _Perhaps I have a genetic disorder_ , he had mused. But now seeing himself in full he could only laugh at his naivety.

It wasn’t the white hair or his gaunt face that caused his instantaneous reaction, it was the eye, _his eye_. It squirmed and throbbed with a mind of its own. The red veins of blood vessels fed into the pitch black sclera in contrast, making both seem deeper and more foreboding to Haise as he examined his visual organ. Almost as if under a spell he pulled down on his lower eyelid, seeing that the sclera did indeed continue around his entire orbit; that it wasn’t a cruel trick played on him by a mentally degraded individual. It wasn’t a contact, it was real. Realizing this he, almost against his will, threw the mirror across the room, watching as it shattered into shards of crystalline daggers.

In a second Haise leaped up from his bed, almost too fast for Arima to see, and grabbed a thick sliver of glass in order to remove the vile organ from his socket. It halted mere centimeters from his eye as Arima’s strong grip held his wrist firmly to prevent him from taking action. In Arima’s other hand was IXA, free of its confines in case Haise couldn’t be calmed by logic alone. 

“Release the glass,” commanded the reaper in a calm voice, more chilling due to its emotionless tone.

Haise’s grasp reflexively tightened around the fragment before sense took over and he released his hold. With a _twing_ it fell to the ground, leaving both parties in a halting compromise as they both waited for the other to take action. Haise looked down at the remnants of the mirror while Arima remained tensed. He expected the feral nature of Haise’s ghoul side to take control, ending his plan for the boy in one fell swoop. If he couldn’t handle this bit of news, how was he going to do under the pressure of working in the field? Even if Arima felt an unusual hint of unease at the prospect of destroying his charge he knew his position in this case even better, allowing him to dismiss his own feelings on the subject. What he didn’t expect, however, was Haise’s reaction.

What began as a slight slump in his shoulders became a full blown display of agony as Haise began to sob. His body wracked with torment, leaving Arima slightly dumb-founded. This was not something he had dealt with before. While he could dispatch ghouls with ease, he found that he had troubles connecting with others and their more intimate emotions. Pain and anger were sentiments he had long grown accustomed to, but this type of pain was nearly incomprehensible to the reaper. Haise descended to the ground as his wails of sorrow grew more prominent, leaving Arima to awkwardly stand above him, unsure of what to do.

The man slowly knelt down next to the boy, placing down his quinque in an act of faith before placing a hand on the young adult’s shoulder. They stayed there until Haise managed to slow his breathing, his tears decreasing until they became known only by the trails they left on his face.

“I’m a monster, aren’t I?” whispered Haise.

In that moment Arima felt such a surge of empathy towards the boy that he felt the need to console him, something he had only down on a few occasions in the past. “Haise look at me,” demanded Arima softly, nudging Haise’s chin up to face him. “You’re no more a monster then I am, maybe even less so. It is not your fault that you are the way you are.”

Haise looked back at Arima, still with the leftovers of grief written on his face, but as he listened to Arima’s words, full of more emotion then he had previously shown, he calmed down. With no knowledge of what was happening, his kakugan faded until it was replaced with a match for his right eye.

“But why Arima, why me?”

“It does one no good to dwell on the past Haise, nor does it help to rely on pity. Things happen to us that we can’t control. Sometimes they make us stronger and other times they knock us down. It is learning to overcome these things that make us human.”

“But I’m not human,” mumbled Arima’s young charge.

Arima picked up a large shard of glass. Haise moved to turn his head from his reflection, stopping when Arima gently held his chin in place. “Look,” commanded the reaper and so Haise looked.

The half-ghoul’s eyes widened as, looking back at him was a human, with no monstrous qualities aside from the downy white hair and blackened nails.

“Haise we all have our own inner demons to face. Some are just bigger than others,” explained Arima with a slight tilt of his lips.

The action immediately served to lighten his face, and in that moment he seemed more human than Haise had seen him before. In that moment Haise knew that he could trust this man; that he could believe in his words. “Where do I go from here?” questioned the boy, hard determination glinting in the sea of desperation that were prominent in his eyes.

“Join the CCG Haise, and I’ll teach you how to conquer your demons.”

 

 

 

 


	4. A Companionable Meal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Arima enjoys a meal with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried something a little different with this chapter. Arima is the focus while Haise is merely mentioned. This is a little bit of a filler in which I introduced two new-to-the-story characters who will pop up every now and then. I hope everyone seems in character and thanks, as always, for the kudos and comments!

Shortly after the meeting, Arima left the hospital still feeling uneasy at his unusual display of emotion in front of his newly designated charge. It seemed strange to the Reaper that someone so different from himself could affect him to such a degree. As it was he pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind as he approached the CCG headquarters in the 20th ward, preparing himself to get back to the job at hand.

Walking through the halls to his office he was met with an oppressive atmosphere of thick emotions. Eyes straightforward, showing that he had no time for others didn’t result in a decrease of their sentiments towards him. Arima knew he held a position of intrigue among the other investigators, especially those who had only seen him work from a distance. He could feel their tense, admiring stares as he passed. In some of the eyes he refused to meet, he knew he would find resentment. While this had never bothered him, he still felt it was tiresome and unnecessary.

Finally, he arrived at his office. Placing his weapon’s case down, he sat in the chair behind his mostly barren desk, which contained nothing but a small collection of folders. It was only a few seconds before a knock distracted him from his files, causing his train of thought on the case at hand to become disrupted. The glass paneling of the perimeters of the space held no secrets and he could see his, unfortunately, expected visitor in an instant.

“You can come in,” sighed Arima, setting the papers back in the file. It seemed like the case would be prolonged yet again.

The tall man entered the office, looking around as he appraised the condition. As spotless as ever, he mused before pulling up a seat towards the front of the Reaper’s desk. It was only when he looked at Arima properly that he noticed something was off. Though few people would be able to recognize it, Taishi could see that the Reaper was not quite as unperturbed as he would, upon passing glance, appear.

“Hello Arima. I was just working on a case and decided to stop by.”

“That’s quite the trip for a simple hello…” stated Arima as he looked blandly back at his companion.

“Yes.. well,” the man cleared his throat uncomfortably. It was clear that his intentions had been seen through. His colleague could of course deduce his own motivation for coming within less than a minute. “Is it so wrong that I would want to come and have lunch with an old friend,” he countered, coming up with a mildly half-assed and partially true excuse for driving two hours away from his own ward for a simple visit.

“I suppose not,” replied Arima, pushing back his own chair and picking up his weapon’s case once again. The two men left the office in companionable silence. The walk through the halls of the CCG were filled with the sounds of lunch, forks and knives scrapping against plates and the happy murmurs of those enjoying the meal together. It was only when they got to Taishi’s vehicle that the silence was broken. There was no fear of eavesdropping here.

“Why did you really come to visit Taishi?” asked the Reaper, taking his usual blunt approach in addressing his friend.

Taishi took his time in starting his inconspicuous vehicle and heading towards the first set of lights before replying. “Is it really bad if I say I was worried about you?”

Arima looked ahead, Taishi taking the silence as a clear response that Arima did not want to discuss the situation at hand. It was just too damn bad that he wouldn’t let him get away with it again. “Arima, what you did for that ghoul, well, it’s unheard of. All the higher up’s who don’t accept your plan think you’ve finally lost it,” said Taishi, remaining just as curt as his friend. He continued on the path to their normal restaurant, passing through two sets of lights before Arima deemed that a response was appropriate.

“His name is Haise,” replied Arima, “and I find him… interesting.”

“Interesting? Is he some sort of experiment to you?”

“In a manner. I just believe that he has… potential.”

Taishi could hardly contain his annoyance at the vague statements Arima was making. Instead of responding as he would have in his younger days his let out a deep breath before speaking again. “Potential for what Arima?” He would play along with the game for now if only he could discern some glimpse into the reason that Arima had forgone his orders for extermination in such an off handed manner a month prior.

“I believe this is our turn,” Arima stated, his gray eyes still pointedly looking forward.

Taishi swore, making a sharp turn into the parking lot, causing a few cars behind him to beep their horns in aggravation. After finding an empty spot and getting out of the vehicle, the two made their way to the entrance to be greeted by an overly perky hostess. Taishi told her of their reservations and they were led to the booth a quiet corner near the back of the room. Neither unfolded their menu while they waited for their usual waitress to come over with their preferred drinks. A black coffee for Arima and strong tea for Taishi. A quiet surrounded them until their server left, remaining that way only until Arima broke it with his answer.

“To surpass myself.”

Taishi nearly choked on his drink. “W-what,” he sputtered. It seemed inconceivable that someone, and a ghoul at that, would be able to become more skilled than the man in front of him.

“While fighting he was able to pass my defense, the only person since Lantern who was able to do that.”

“Huh,” grunted Taishi. The feat must have taken some skill to achieve, either that or overwhelming power. Taishi had of course gone up against the Reaper on numerous occasions, always landing on his back within a minute or less depending on Arima’s mood at the time. He had never once managed to land a blow. It was only when Taishi examined Arima’s face closely in the dim lighting that he could see a faint white scar on his right cheek. This was the same spot as Lantern’s successful strike. Taishi remembered as he had relentlessly teased Arima for wearing a bandage over the wound for a week. “Well what are you going to do with… Haise?”

Arima took another sip of coffee, the steam slightly fogging up his glasses. Taishi had learned the hard way that making fun of the condensation on the lens of the spectacles would get him nothing but pain, in one form or another. Arima took his time once again, savoring the flavor of the beans used in the brew. Patience was the key when dealing with Kishou Arima and few had the qualities necessary to deal with his antics. It was at this moment the waitress delivered their food, sparing Arima another minute before he responded.

“I plan to train him. He’ll be coming home to live with me tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that risky? A ghoul living under your roof, what if it kills someone?”

“You think I can’t handle it?” asked Arima with a small smirk.

“Of course you can, you’re the God damn Reaper,” spoke Taishi angrily, lowering his voice when he noticed a few stares fixed in their direction. “I’m just.. worried. I don’t know why you’re taking such a gamble.” Taishi focused on cutting his steak, mildly embarrassed by his display of emotion.

“Taishi,” started Arima, causing Taishi to look up at him. “I have a plan, though your concern is touching.”

Taishi looked away once more, a slight blush lightening his skin. He focused intently on his food. The meat was tender and well-seasoned. There was a reason they returned to this restaurant time and again. Arima began to cut his steak as well, using his knife to dice the meat as a surgeon uses a scalpel to dissect delicate tissues. The meal continued in a pleasant lull as the two consumed the rest of their meals. Once the plates were removed they were left with refilled drinks and unspoken thoughts.

“How is Aki doing?” Asked the Reaper, finally breaking the silence.

“Well. She’s busy raising our child. She’s a wonderful mother,” he replied affectionately.

Arima was pleased with his answer. While he rarely saw Taishi’s family he always inquired about them, knowing how much they meant to the man.

The two continued their light conversation, talking about their newer cases and the clean-up of the 20th ward. They left the establishment with their cups empty and a large tip on the table. Driving back to the ward Taishi brought up the conversation previously left behind again, approaching it from a different angle. “What’s he like?”

Arima needed no further prompting to know who Taishi was referring to. “He’s.. quiet. From what I’ve gathered he seems to be cautious though prone to emotional outbursts. He’s… lonely and troubled,” Arima concluded.

“Sounds like you’ll have your hands full,” responded Taishi in a strained tone. While he was worried, he wouldn’t bring up his feelings again.

“Yes,” simply replied Arima in agreement.

The rest of the drive was quiet with both occupants lost in their own thoughts. After a few blocks they arrived at headquarters where Taishi stopped to let Arima out of the car. After saying their farewells they departed with Arima watching his friend drive off, black car quickly blending into the sea of traffic.

Arima walked back into the building he had left nearly two hours ago, stopping only when he saw a familiar bleached head of hair bobbing over a small cubicle. Unlike Arima, he had not been given a separate office as his place in the CCG had been hardly recognized by his superiors. The space had previously contained numerous papers pined up and connected with string to indicate possible connections between the items. Now the walls lay mostly barren minus the tack holes and a large box which filled up the space.

Arima watched as he worked, taking down the last of the profiles on the land hand side of the cube. He sighed heavily, wincing as he lifted the box up onto his desk. On his left shoulder was a bundle of bandages, hardly noticeable under the camouflage of the CCG trench coat he was wearing. Arima knew what was underneath, however, and how he had come to obtain the wound.

The investigator stopped moving after a moment, feeling the stare of someone on his back. He slowly turned around, brown eyes widening as he took in Arima’s lithe form standing near the entrance to his assigned space. “A-Arima, how long have you been standing there?” asked the boy nervously.

“Just a few moments. Are they reassigning you?”

“Yeah, as far away from here as they can, they don’t want to take any chance… you know.. with….” The boy trailed off, his face suddenly changing from sunny to cloudy with a chance of rain. “How is he?”

“He knows who he is now, or at least who we’ve led him to believe he is. I believe he handled it as well as he could have given the circumstances,” stoically announced Arima, not allowing the boy in front of him to determine anything other than his words. He didn’t need to know about Haise’s exact response to the news.

The young investigator nodded. “You’ll keep me updated won’t you?” Hope flickered brilliantly in his eyes, demanding to be met with a promise,

“Of course. You are, after all, the reason he’s still alive.”

“I guess,” murmured the young adult, doubt entering his expression as he looked at the Reaper. He had seen what the man in front of him had done to his best friend, and while it had stopped his tirade of destruction and madness it had also taken his memories with it. The method used to defeat Kaneki was not exactly civil or humane in his opinion either but what was done was done. The past could not be rewritten, it was only in the future where things could change. At least that's what he tried to tell himself each night before he succumbed to nightmares involving gleaming white teeth, bloodied eyes and a white haired Shinigami.

“Well I better get going. My ride will be here soon.” The boy looked around once more at the empty space he had previously occupied before lifting the large box up with only the slightest indication of discomfort. He left the cubicle with Arima moving back to allow him passage. He stopped and looked up at the man. “You’ll take care of him, right? He’ll be okay?” He asked, needing some form of reassurance that he had done the right thing, that his friend would survive, mentally and physically, whatever the Reaper would put him through.

“I will do my best Nagachika, you have my word,” sincerely comforted Arima, putting an ounce more of emotion into his words then he would normally.

“Thank you,” Hide said simply before leaving. Arima watched as he journeyed down the hall. He stood more warily then he had before the raid and his eyes were more serious with an air of determination permanently embedded in their depths. His friend hadn’t been the only one to be changed by the tides of battle, Arima thought as he returned to his office.

Tomorrow he would bring Haise to his new home. It would mark the first day he would be assigned not to an extermination, but to something requiring more delicacy than the sharp steel of a quinque. He would be providing for someone for the first time, and someone not entirely human at that. Though considered less risky than going against the One-Eyed Owl, Arima still believed that it would be the hardest mission he had ever been assigned. To think that he brought it on himself was laughable but as he sat there he prepared himself for the challenges he would face and the consequences they would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Hide is alive and working in the CCG. I think I might have a future chapter based on what happened in the sewer and thereafter to explain exactly what happened to allow Kaneki's survival if that's alright with everyone. Thanks for reading!


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